


For Bellona’s sake, brake!

by sturmundfrei



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Friendship, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, Post-Canon, slight crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:16:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sturmundfrei/pseuds/sturmundfrei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Nico and Reyna ride bikes. Well, Nico rides a bike. I’m not sure what Reyna’s doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Bellona’s sake, brake!

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I have no explanation for this. Plot bunnies, am I right.

The moment he steps out of the shadows, Nico realizes he’s made a grave mistake. Reyna whips around, drawing her sword in one smooth movement, and her dogs spring to attention. Luckily, Nico’s reflexes are pretty fast, too—or he would’ve spend the rest of his life wearing an eye patch, which would be an unfortunate case of ‘Pirate King’ rather than ‘Ghost King.’ He stumbles back, narrowly avoids an intimate encounter with the fountain, and throws up his hands. 

“It’s me!” 

“ _Nico_ ,” Reyna breathes, relaxing out of her battle stance. Aurum and Argentum lie down, watching Nico with their unflinching ruby eyes, while their mistress sheathes her sword and tucks a loose strand of hair into her dark braid to cover up the quiver in her hands. “What are you _doing_ , sneaking up on me like that?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Nico says, a little defensively. “Also, how do you have a sword? We’re inside the Pomerian Line. Why isn’t Terminus throwing a hissy fit?” 

Reyna shrugs. “He’s been more lenient since the war. Especially with Praetors.” She pats the hilt of her sword almost affectionately and sits down on the fountain’s edge, right at the foot of the not-very-flattering Bacchus statue. “So, what brings you to Camp Jupiter? Ambassador business?” 

“Hazel, actually.” Nico gazes out on the sprawling city beneath them, the red rooftops of New Rome baking in the Californian sun, the dusty Via Praetoria leading to the camp gate with its banners flying high. He can see people bustling about, but it’s a casual kind of liveliness, as paradoxical as it may sound. A feeling of true peace has settled in. The war is over, its memory slowly dimming in people’s minds. The city’s last visible scars were repaired a few months ago and normal life has reinstated itself. 

At least, for most people it has. In truth, Nico isn’t really surprised at Terminus’s tolerance. Undoubtedly, the god of boundaries is as familiar with the look in Reyna’s eyes as Nico is—a look of vigilance, of constant watching, suspecting, expecting. He feels it, too, the nagging in the back of his mind, the vague sense of threat that he can’t seem to leave behind. It’s been a year since they blew Gaea to kingdom come, and the feeling is still there. Sometimes he wonders if it will ever go away. 

“Hazel?” Reyna repeats, pulling Nico out of his darker thoughts. “I’m sorry, but she isn’t–”

“–here,” Nico finishes for her. “I know, I kind of dropped in on her and Frank when they were about to leave.” He makes a fluttery gesture with his hands, like he’s chasing away flies, and gives a sigh. “I _am_ glad Frank’s finally got a lead on what happened to his grandma, but, well… I just wish he hadn’t gotten it _today_.” 

“Can’t you reschedule with Hazel?” Reyna asks, reaching down to pet Aurum’s neck. “Or were you planning to do something specific?” 

“We were going to check out the city,” Nico says. “I mean San Francisco, not New Rome. I even had a surprise planned, but I guess it’ll have to wait.” 

He sounds so wistful he considers dunking his head into the fountain after all. Complaining isn’t really his thing, at least not out loud to people who might actually _hear_ , but this is Reyna, and she knows him better than most people. A lot of demigods have a need for a little normalcy at times; Reyna understands that Nico’s doesn’t necessarily stem from _being a demigod_ —it’s more an out-of-time thing, which he shares with Hazel, and Reyna’s formative years on Circe’s island have given her a hint of the same experience. Still, he didn’t shadow-travel up the hill to the Garden of Bacchus to whine at her. She’s undoubtedly got better things to do than listen to this. 

“I’m free today,” Reyna says. Nico turns around, his eyes widened in surprise, and she offers him a smile. “Jason’s here for the month, so in case of emergency, he can stand in for me and Frank. Let me send Aurum and Argentum to Temple Hill, then we can go catch the bus in New Rome. I’m not saying you should waste that surprise on me, but we can still have a fun day out.” 

“It wouldn’t be wasted, but—no, Reyna, I can’t let you neglect your duties because of me,” Nico protests, but she flicks her wrist and the automaton dogs speed off. 

“No-one is neglecting anything,” she says, in her stern Praetor voice, and then adds in a softer tone, “Especially not you. Come on, Nico, we deserve a day off. Let’s go.” 

The loose strand falls out of her braid as she stands up, and she shakes her head briefly before walking off. Nico stands frozen to the spot for a moment, watching her purple figure disappear in a cluster of grapevines. His sense of responsibility is screaming in the back of his head— _she’s a Praetor, what are you doing!_ —but for once, he doesn’t listen. The sun is out, the air is buzzing with heat and energy, and one of his best friends in the world has cleared her entire schedule just to cheer him up. 

Nico grins and follows her down the hill. 

∞

The bus from New Rome takes campers and citizens to the Rockridge station in Oakland, where they can hop on a Bay Area Rapid Transit train and ride it all the way to the heart of San Francisco—free of charge, thanks to an arrangement with Mercury/Hermes. Nico is bitterly disappointed when they rattle into a tunnel and spend twenty minutes in bleak subway light. 

“It’s like the freaking Fields of Asphodel down here,” he mutters, and Reyna coughs to hide a smile as the lady sitting opposite them clutches her handbag a little tighter. 

They step into the sunlight on Market Street, blinking against the brightness before Nico sets off down the street. He’s planned this carefully and knows exactly where they’re going. It’s as hot here as it was in New Rome, though, and Reyna insists on stopping for iced coffee. Starbucks in hand, they follow the diagonal Market Street for a while, basking in their moment of freedom. They’re surrounded by people going about their business, not even sparing them a second glance, carrying shopping bags and laughing loudly on street corners and generally oozing a kind of carefree confidence. It’s the liveliness of New Rome times a hundred, and it’s a little overwhelming; Reyna and Nico exchange looks a few times, but they don’t dare to comment. It might break the spell. 

After about ten minutes, they turn right and enter a quiet residential area. The street leads to the summit of a minor hill, but it’s no big deal for a pair of war-hardened demigods. They’re not even out of breath when they reach the top and pause to take in their surroundings. From here, the street slopes down into another shopping area, less high-end than Market Street, with a distinct lack of chain stores and an abundance of graffiti art. Nico likes it immediately. 

“We’re almost there,” he tells Reyna, and they make their way down the slope, quickly overtaken by two children racing each other on skateboards and screaming in ecstasy. The street leads them past an overgrown-looking park area, an organic supermarket with two people out front offering free handfuls of cherries to passers-by, at least a dozen pizzerias, six liquor stores, and a shop apparently called _WASTELAND_ , which doesn’t sound like it would attract actual paying customers. 

Finally, just as Reyna bites down on the last cherry, Nico stops and points across the street. “There it is.” 

The shop is small, squeezed in between a deli and a large red building that looks like a fancy restaurant, with a sign above the door that says _Bike San Francisco, Rentals and Tours_. Two bicycles are parked on the sidewalk, chain-linked to a trashcan, and there’s a poster of a happy family wearing flashy bike helmets in the window. Reyna pulls up an eyebrow and gives Nico a look that says _I don’t know, man_. 

“Bicycles?” 

“I was going to bring Hazel here,” Nico explains. “She likes cycling. I thought it’d be a good way to explore San Francisco.” 

“It is,” Reyna agrees. “Still, though, I think you should save this for Hazel. I, uh… I’m happy to just walk around.” 

Nico turns around, surprised by her ‘uh.’ It’s not a word she uses a lot—or at all, actually. “Are you sure?” 

“Very.” Reyna nods, glances at the shop one more time, and then she _shudders_ , and Nico’s mouth drops. 

“You don’t know how to ride a bike!” 

Reyna snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I do.” She wavers when she sees the stern look on Nico’s face and casts her eyes down. “Alright, fine. I admit it. I never learned, OK?” 

Seeing her like this, a little annoyed and a whole lot embarrassed, makes Nico realize just how much he appreciates her friendship. She’s three years older than he is, kind of a significant difference when you’re fourteen and seventeen, which they were when they first met—and it has never really mattered. Obviously, the life-threatening situation they were in at the time helped speed the process along, but they went from complete strangers to allies to people who shared secrets and gave each other heartfelt motivational speeches within days. Reyna has become his go-to person for advice, and she’s the only one who doesn’t mind spending a couple of hours together in complete silence. At the same time, she’s comfortable letting her guard down around Nico; he’s probably heard more of her fears and worries than anyone else, including her fellow Praetor Frank. 

Not once has Nico felt like they aren’t equals. It is all he ever wanted from a friendship. 

“I’ll teach you,” he offers. “It’s really easy—Bianca taught me. We used to hold bicycle races in the lobby of the Lotus Hotel.” 

He doesn’t register what he’s said until Reyna gives him a look of badly-concealed concern. That’s another thing about this friendship—it’s so easy to talk to her, he finds himself slipping snippets about his old life into their conversations that really don’t need to be discussed. Ten-year-old Nico would’ve loved to talk about the Lotus Hotel, but fifteen-year-old Nico should know better than to just share everything. 

“If it really means that much to you,” Reyna says, “then I suppose I can give it a try.” 

Alright, so maybe he should share things more often. 

∞

They rent a very nice, dark grey mountain bike for Nico, and a step-through city bike with brake levers and a string of purple plastic flowers around the frame for Reyna. The salesman tells them to return the bikes before six p.m. and shifts his attention back to the Jeopardy episode playing on his cellphone. Nico and Reyna exchange smirks, then take the bikes outside, helmets dangling from the handlebars. 

“There’s a park to the west of here,” Nico recalls from his evening planning this surprise. “Shouldn’t be far.” 

He’s right. The park entrance is only five minutes away, and after five more minutes they’ve found an empty stretch of tarmac perfect for first-time cycling. Nico props his own bike up against a tree, pockets the key, and turns to Reyna. She doesn’t look very excited, but there’s determination on her face, and that’ll have to do. 

“Alright,” Nico says, “so the most important thing to remember is balance. Cycling is all about maintaining balance.” 

“Which I do _how_ , exactly?” Reyna eyes the bike suspiciously, as if she expects it to ride away on its own. 

“Speed,” Nico explains. “Go too slowly and you’ll fall over. Also, keep your steering straight. Don’t move the handlebars unless you’re planning to go around a corner.” 

Grim-faced, as if she’s dressing herself for battle, Reyna fastens the helmet’s chin strap. She tests her grip on the handlebars before stepping over the middle bar. With a foot on either side of the bike, she eases herself onto the saddle, leaving the tips of her toes on the ground. The bike wobbles. Reyna’s face contorts, but Nico grabs the frame before things go south and steadies her. 

“First step done,” he tells her cheerfully. “Next step: move. Just push yourself forward with one foot, up to that bench over there.” 

Reyna nods, concentration in her eyes, and slowly slips onto the saddle again. She takes a deep breath and allows the bike to glide forward a little. Nico walks with her just in case, hoping it’ll boost her confidence, or at least reduce her anxiety. They make it to the bench with only minor wobbling and Reyna sighs. 

“Alright, so what now?” Her attempt at breeziness wouldn’t fool a katobleps. 

“The next step is putting your feet on the pedals, but are you sure you’re OK?” Nico frowns. “You can fly on giant eagles and pegasi and in chariots just fine, but this bike thing seems to be freaking you out.” 

“I’m fine,” Reyna insists, her voice stronger now. She catches the sceptic look on Nico’s face and casts her eyes down. “Hylla tried to teach me once, and all I did was fall on my face. At least twenty times. So I’m a little nervous, yes.” 

“Nobody falls on their face twenty times unless their teacher blows,” Nico says. He sounds confident, but he’s really glad Hylla isn’t around to hear him criticize her. “Remember shadow-traveling?” 

Reyna shudders. “How could I forget?” 

“Did I ever let you fall?” 

“Well, there was that one time above Mount Vesuvius…”

“Shut up,” Nico interrupts, his cheeks tinged pink. “Apart from that one time. Which wasn’t my fault.” 

Reyna laughs; her face brightens and she releases her death grip on the handlebars, her entire posture relaxing. “Apart from that one time, no. You never let me fall.” 

They smile at each other. Then Reyna takes a deep breath and places one foot on a pedal. She pushes it down carefully, letting the bike move, and as she accelerates, she pulls up her other foot. It works—with both feet on the pedals, she makes it to the next bench. She stops by grabbing the bench’s back rest, but the important thing is the bike didn’t shake too much, and she didn’t fall. Nico grins. 

“You’re a natural.” 

“What’s next?” Reyna asks. This time, the sparkle in her eyes does convince Nico, and he jogs back to the first bench. 

“Turn around,” he instructs, “and then–”

“–make it to you without falling,” Reyna finishes. 

“Don’t forget to pedal,” Nico says, smirking, and she shoots him a look that could fry chicken. “Alright, alright!” 

He wasn’t lying, though—she _is_ a natural. Her second time pushing off gives her enough speed to make it to the second bench without pedaling. Nico decides to make it more interesting and whirls around, sprinting away from her. She shouts behind him, but he gives a little wave and doesn’t stop until he’s forty yards ahead of her. 

“You’re doing great!” he calls, as he turns to face her again. “Just keep going!” 

She’s too far away to shoot daggers at him, but it’s easy to imagine her doing exactly that. All it does is make him feel strangely giddy. He did want a bit of normalcy, didn’t he? Hanging out at the park riding bicycles may just be the most normal thing he’s ever done in his life, even if it involves teaching a Praetor of the Roman legion how not to fall on her face. 

The aforementioned Praetor is currently barreling straight towards him. The good part is that she doesn’t wobble in the slightest, the bad part is that she’s showing no signs of stopping, and she’s closing in fast. That’s when Nico notices the road slopes gently downward—it’s adding speed, not helping her slow down. At all. 

“Brake!” he urges. “Reyna, the levers on your handlebars, squeeze them!” 

“I’ll fall!” she cries, wide-eyed, quickly losing her composure. 

“No, you won’t! Just do it!” Nico yells. “Brake! For Bellona’s sake, _brake_!” 

He jumps out of the way just in time and rolls into the grass. Reyna zooms past, her braid flying behind her like the string on a kite. Another twenty yards and the road curves ever so slightly to the right. They haven’t practiced making turns yet, Nico realizes with a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he scrambles to his feet. There’s no way he can get to her in time. Instead, he thrusts his hand forward and reaches deep into the earth. 

Reyna screams as the ground cracks. Automatically, she yanks the handlebars to the side, swerving to avoid the fractured tarmac. The bike skids across the grass and she bounces on the saddle, yelling something in Latin that she probably shouldn’t repeat in the presence of a child. Nico facepalms. Luckily, the three zombies he meant to summon climb out of the fissures and leap forward. They are surprisingly fast, shooting across the field in a blur and reaching Reyna within moments. Completely synchronized, they grab the rear rack and bring her to an immediate halt. 

Nico breaks into a sprint and catches up right when Reyna dismounts, taking a few unsteady steps away from the bike and the zombies. Her braid has come undone. She breathes in deeply through her nose, then turns and jabs a finger at Nico. 

“What were you _thinking_? Were you trying to make cycling even _more_ traumatic for me?” By the time she spits out the last word, the anger is already dissolving. The corners of her mouth quiver, as if she’s suppressing a smile, and sure enough—she takes another gulp of air and bursts out laughing. 

Nico blinks. Is this what people do after near-death experiences? He’s had his fair share of those, and they didn’t usually have him in stitches. Reyna also isn’t known for abundant laughter. Did the bumping on the grass damage her brain? Has he ruined her future now? 

As she calms down, she lays a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. It feels affectionate, but Nico stares at her, unsure what to expect. She snorts. “How could you _possibly_ see me flying down the road and think, _this needs zombies_?” 

“I was just trying to help,” he mumbles, hanging his head. “I thought you were going to crash.” 

“So did I,” Reyna says, “right into a crack and then down into the Underworld.” 

Her voice sounds constricted, like she’s holding something in, and when Nico looks up, he realizes she’s forcing back more laughter. It’s contagious, even if he’s feeling guilty. The corners of his mouth turn up and before he knows it, he’s grinning back at her. She squeezes his shoulder again—then she pulls him into a hug. It’s unexpected and brief and a little weird, but it chases the guilt from his system. Reyna is fine. 

“You did help, though,” she says, pulling back. “I felt stupid for being so afraid of falling, and it was holding me back. This helped me realize that it isn’t stupid to want to stay on your bike, and also that falling off isn’t really the worst thing that could happen.” 

“See?” Nico says lightly. “I just knew exactly what you needed.” 

“Of course you did,” Reyna deadpans. Then she gives him a weird look. “Did you really just yell _for Bellona’s sake_?” 

“I was desperate, alright? And I really didn’t want to have to explain to your mom why her war hero daughter died riding a bike.” Nico makes a painful face. “Accompanied by a child of the Underworld, no less.” 

Reyna laughs again. “That probably wouldn’t have gone well.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Nico shrugs and glances to where his own bicycle is standing. “Do you want to go cycle across the Golden Gate Bridge now?” 

“Yes,” Reyna decides, “let’s do it.” 

∞

They return the bikes to the rental shop at exactly five minutes to six, with flushed faces and throats dry from laughter. Nico falls asleep on the train home, with his head on Reyna’s shoulder, and it’s the first time in months he doesn’t dream about the war. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always brighten my day, so please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think! :)


End file.
